


I See the Moon and the Moon Sees Me

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: halfamoon, Gen, Pre-Canon, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-08
Updated: 2009-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:56:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary's boys will never hunt by the light of the moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I See the Moon and the Moon Sees Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [innie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innie/gifts).



> For innie_darling, who requested Mary Winchester, moonlight for halfamoon.

The moon hangs low, full and heavy in the sky, a bright soft gold that reminds Mary of the yellowed pages of her father's books. Its light floods the baby's bedroom, gives Sammy's skin a golden glow. He's her summer baby, sun-kissed and bright-eyed, up early in the morning, ready to play, even after nights of waking every two hours to eat.

Just now he's sleeping peacefully, and Mary brushes her fingers lightly over his forehead. The night is quiet, but she can hear the rumble of an engine out on the street, and the occasional screech of a cat in heat.

She remembers nights spent under full moons just like this one, learning the look of the night sky, tracking werewolves, cold iron of a gun in her hand, her father ahead, talking about how the bright moonlight means they don't need flashlights, her mother behind, making an unfunny joke about the family that hunts together...

Not her boys. Not her family. Not if Mary has anything to say about it.

Dean shuffles in, hair mussed and eyes heavy but alert.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asks, bending to lift him up onto her hip. He clambers up like a spider monkey. He's getting heavy--soon, he'll be too big for her to hold like this. She doesn't like to think about that.

"Too bright," he says, resting his head in the hollow of her neck. He's her winter baby, her night owl. He'd been a fussy baby, had to be driven to sleep every night in the car. He still doesn't like to go to bed early, wakes easily at even soft noises and shifts in light. He sleeps in with her and John sometimes, though John doesn't like to encourage it, says a big boy should sleep in his own big boy bed. Mostly because Dean, like his mother, is a blanket hog.

Sometimes she hears him on the baby monitor, talking to Sammy, and Sammy's soft coos in response; it makes her heart ache.

"Come on," she says, "Sammy's sleeping. Let's get you back to bed."

"Okay, Mommy." Dean raises his head to look at her, his eyes bright and clear and green in the moonlight. "Will you sing the moon song?"

She carries Dean back to his room and tucks him into his big boy bed. "I see the moon and the moon sees me," she sings softly. "The moon sees somebody I want to see."

Dean joins in sleepily. "God bless the moon and God bless me. And God bless the somebody I want to see." His eyes flutter closed and his breathing evens out.

She brushes his hair back and kisses his forehead, breathing in the little boy and baby shampoo scent of him.

She prays that angels really are watching over him, over all of them, and heads back to her own warm bed, where John is sleeping peacefully.

end

~*~


End file.
